


Hold Me Down

by nadagio



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Porn Without Plot, but not much porn either, humor?, not very smutty smut, vague canon au without drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 08:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13853670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadagio/pseuds/nadagio
Summary: Keith finds Lance acting suspiciously late at night and wants to know why. It turns out the answer is... a bondage kink?





	Hold Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic that was languishing in my WIP folder. This one is inspired by Lance's practically canon love of bondage. Apologies for the not very smutty smut, if that's what you're here for. Enjoy. :)

Keith walks into the dining hall carrying a late night snack. For a moment he has to stand quietly and just… stare. Then he steps closer to the table and puts down his bowl before folding his arms across his chest with a sigh.

“What are you doing?” he asks eventually.

 _“Eep!”_ Lance squeaks and jumps to his feet, knocking against the table and sending a chair spinning on the way. “Keith! I, uh… What’s up, buddy?”

“Why were you groping that chair?” Keith says.

 _“Groping!?_ Eh. Heh. What a thing to say!” Lance shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and avoids direct eye contact. “I was just, you know… looking for something. I dropped it.”

“Something,” Keith repeats, unimpressed. He pulls out a chair for himself and sits down. “Something like what?”

“Something like a thing that is small and easily lost,” Lance says, and scoffs like _Keith_ is the weirdo here for questioning him. “Obviously.”

“Uh huh,” Keith agrees flatly, picking up his spork. He’s too tired to  _really_ get into this bullshit, but he can’t let it go yet either. “Don’t let me stop you, you can keep looking for your _something.”_ Maybe then Keith can figure out whatever the hell Lance was _actually_ doing.

“Right, yeah.” Lance eyes the floor with a pout. “Just gonna… look for it, now.”

“Go for it,” Keith says, his eyebrows raised expectantly. He eats a sporkful of green goo.

“Going for it,” Lance mutters, getting back on his knees. “Gonna look for it so hard. Gonna _find_ that thing that I dropped.”

Except rather than going back to groping the chair, Lance fumbles around on the floor as if he is _actually_ searching for something small and lost. Keith suppresses a sigh of disappointment and eats more goo.

“Gee! Guess I can’t find it!” Lance announces, standing up _far_ too soon to have completed a thorough search. “What a shame.”

“It must be important if you’re looking for it in the middle of the night,” Keith points out. “I could help. Maybe if you describe it for me.”

Lance glares at him. “It’s… small,” he says.

“Yup,” Keith says, scooping up another sporkful of his snack. “What else?”

“Small and… round. And silver.”

Keith hums in understanding. “Sounds pretty generic. Could be anywhere.” Keith can’t resist a small smirk. “Maybe we should get the whole team involved. Cover more ground, you know?”

Lance’s glare upgrades to a furious scowl. He clearly knows that _Keith_ knows that there is no such “something” that’s lost. But bringing it up in front of anyone else means it’s more likely Lance will be forced to explain what he was _actually_ doing with that chair. Keith slurps down his goo.

“What do you want?” Lance grits out. “A favor? For me to beg? What’s the price of your silence?”

“I want…” Keith says slowly, enjoying the way Lance listens closely – silent and attentive. “To know what you were doing to that chair.”

“How about something else?” Lance says, eye wide. But his desperation to avoid answering just makes Keith want to know even more. “I could tell you a super embarrassing story about this one time when -”

“Nope. Not interested,” Keith interrupts. “Why were you groping a chair?”

“I wasn’t _groping_ it!” Lance huffs, looking away with a pout. “I _was_ looking for something, okay? Just not… something I lost.”

Keith takes another bit of goo and waits for Lance to elaborate, but the blue paladin says nothing else. Unfortunately. There have been many times where Keith would like nothing more than for Lance to shut up, but now is not such a time.

“So what were you looking for?” Keith says.

Lance opens his mouth and closes it a few times, eyes narrowed in thought – probably trying to think of a more convincing lie. Eventually he must give up, because he sags and groans before saying,

“If you absolutely _must know,_ you jerk, I was looking for…” and then he mumbles something unintelligible.

“What?” Keith unconsciously leans closer, squinting. “I didn’t catch that.”

“I SAID I was looking for those _handcuffs!”_ Lance says. Rather loudly, this time.

Keith sits back, a bit stunned, as Lance’s face flushes red.

“Oh…” That is definitely not what Keith expected to hear. “Why would you -?” He cuts himself off.

While there is _maybe_ the slightest possibility that Lance wants them for some innocent and sensible reason, given the fact that he’s looking in the middle of the night and clearly embarrassed about it… all signs point to something dirty.

But to Keith’s best knowledge the blue paladin isn’t fucking anyone on the ship, and there aren’t exactly many other options in space, so -

“Were you gonna use them… by yourself?” Keith asks, fascinated to see Lance’s face blush even _more_.

“Maybe,” Lance grumbles. “So what if I was? You got something to say about it?”

“...No?” Keith isn’t sure _what_ exactly he would say about it, but it’s probably not whatever Lance is expecting.

“...Oh.” Lance’s glare fades a bit, but his face is still bright red. “Um. Really?”

“I mean, to be totally honest I’m wondering how that would work, but, uh….” Keith’s food is completely forgotten. He’s not even feeling very tired anymore. “I could… help you look?”

“What?” Lance gapes. “You want to help!?”

“Sure, why not.” Keith says. “But uh, would you really be able to… get out? By yourself?”

 _“I don’t know_. I need to figure out how they work first! Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

They stare at each other in uncomfortable silence for a moment.

“I’m just gonna…” Lance gestures at the chair he’d been groping earlier and gets right back to it, fumbling around with the arms, the sides, the back. Everywhere. From an outside perspective it looks pretty weird.

“You looking for a switch or something?” Keith asks.

“Yeah,” is all Lance says.

“That doesn’t seem very likely,” Keith says.

“Do you have any _better_ ideas then, genius?” Lance snaps, standing up straight to put his hands on his hips. “I thought you wanted to help, not criticize.”

Keith shrugs. “I’m just saying, why would restraints be activated by the person sitting _in_ the chair? Didn’t Coran have a remote or something?”

Lance sighs and his whole body droops. “He did. But I don’t wanna just go up and ask him about it, ya know? I thought maybe there’d be a manual trigger.”

Something resembling pity bubbles up in Keith’s chest. It _does_ sound pretty embarrassing to ask Coran about handcuffs for the purpose of kinky self-pleasure.

“Well, can’t hurt to look,” Keith says, standing up. He walks around to the head of the table. “But I think a switch is more likely to be on the table. Maybe at one of the ends where a leader would sit.”

“That… actually makes sense,” Lance admits, and circles around to the other end.

They both sit and start searching the table for some kind of button or something.

“It kind of makes you wonder what all went down at this table, right?” Lance speaks up. It seems he's mostly recovered from his earlier embarrassment. “Like, why did the Alteans need handcuffs on their dining room furniture? Was it a safety precaution for diplomatic meetings or were Alteans some real kinky bastards?”

Keith laughs. “You could ask Coran or Allura,” he says, grinning. “But it was probably for training. Coran acted like eating with your wrists locked to each other was a common team bonding exercise.”

“Bo- _ring,”_ Lance sighs. “I like my theory better.”

“Imagine whatever freaky scenario you’d like, then.”

“Maybe I will!”

They both snicker and keep looking, until after a minute or two Lance lets out a loud, “Aha!”

“Found something?” Keith asks. He stands and walks closer to where Lance is kneeling under the table.

“I think so,” Lance mutters, “There’s this little square thing that looks like it could be a switch. Maybe if I…”

A quiet moment. Nothing happens. Lance sighs.

“Guess not,” he grumbles. “This is probably hopeless.”

“Maybe…” Keith thinks back to that moment when Coran cuffed them all together. It feels like so long ago, now. “Maybe someone needs to be sitting in a chair? The handcuffs only popped up where we were sitting, I think.”

“Yeah, maybe!” Lance perks up. “Get down here and let’s try it.”

Keith kneels down on the floor and looks at the maybe-switch that Lance points to.

“See it?” Lance asks.

Keith nods.

“Awesome.” Lance scoots back and bounces up and around the table to seat himself in one of the many chairs around the table. “Have at it, Keithy!”

Keith presses a finger against the maybe-switch and it lights up with a turquoise glow. That _seems_ promising but did it actually -?

“Oh!” Lance squeaks.

Keith gets out from under the table to see that, sure enough, a pair of of handcuffs had materialized around Lance’s wrists and tethered him to the arms of his chair.

“It actually worked!” Keith says.

“Uh, yeah…” Lance looks at his wrists with a conflicted expression and flushed cheeks. “But, uh… I didn’t think this through very well, did I?”

“What do you mean?” Keith walks closer and leans against the table.

“I mean, I’m stuck to the chair here. And _you’re_ here and this isn’t exactly, uh… the best position to be… you know…”

“Jerking off?” Keith smirks.

“Right,” Lance confirms with a glare. “Soooo, unless there’s a way to detach these from the chair… And now that I think about it, a remote is probably necessary if the cuffs themselves don’t have a manual release…”

“The same button should probably work to release them,” Keith says.

“Yeah, but that’s way over _there,_ Keith. And I’m stuck all the way over _here.”_

“I can do it for you,” Keith offers.

Lance sighs. “Obviously you can right _now._ I’m just saying, in practice this whole idea was kinda shit.”

“I don’t know…” Keith eyes Lance where he sits, cuffed at the wrists, unable to move from the chair. “Looks like a pretty good idea from this angle.”

“Ha ha,” Lance says, rolling his eyes. “Go ahead and laugh it up. Then can you please turn off the handcuffs?”

“I’m not laughing,” Keith says, scooting over so he’s right in front of Lance. “And I think.... No.”

“No!?” Lance squawks, wide-eyed. “What do you mean, _‘no!?’_ You just said you’d do it for me!”

“But you’re not really done here, are you?” Keith leans forward. “You wanted these cuffs for a reason.”

“Wha - What are you saying?” Lance rasps, the flush on his cheeks steadily darkening. “You expect me to… get off, right now? Me and what source of friction!?”

Keith shrugs. “I’m here.”

Just when Keith thinks Lance’s eyes can’t get any wider, or his eyebrows any higher, the blue paladin goes and proves him wrong.

“Are y-you offering to…” Lance whispers.

“Yup.”

They look each other in the eye for a quiet moment before Lance looks away and says, “Okay.”

“...Really?” Keith raises his eyebrows. Despite making the offer he didn’t really expect Lance to _accept_ it.

“Duh!” Lance frowns. “You think I’m just gonna say no when you offer to give me an orgasm!? I was desperate enough to go looking for handcuffs in the dining room, Keith, and being tied up as someone gets me off is literally my biggest wet dream.”

“Right,” Keith says, feeling a bit dazed. He didn’t really think he’d get his far. “So… now what?”

“You don’t have _any_ ideas about what you’d like to do me?” Lance asks. “I mean, you _want_ to do this, right? It’s not some weird sense of altruism or -”

“I want to do it,” Keith confirms. He pushes off the table and steps closer until he’s frowning down at Lance. “But how far do you want to go here? Can I take off your pants? Do you want to kiss? Should I use my hands or my mouth?”

“Yes,” Lance says simply, back to being wide-eyed. “All that. Yes.”

Keith smirks and hums. Eager, is he? “Okay, then,” Keith says, and leans down to place a chaste kiss on Lance’s lips. Lance leans forward to follow Keith’s mouth when he pulls away, but Keith is already stepping back to kneel at his feet. “Let’s get you more comfortable.”

He barely reaches toward Lance’s sneakers before the blue paladin is already toeing them off himself, so instead Keith unbuttons Lance’s jeans. As soon as the zipper is undone Lance lifts his hips so Keith can pull his pants down and Keith can’t restrain a snicker.

“What’s so funny!?” Lance frowns. “You laughing is seriously _not_ what I want to hear right now.”

“Sorry.” Keith smiles, not very sorry at all. “You just seem very… excited.”

“Did you not hear me say this is literally my biggest wet dream, right here?” Lance says, and his wiggling gets the chair wobbling in the air. Keith steadies it by grabbing the arms. “Are you gonna touch me or do you need me to beg for it?”

“Hmm.” Keith eyes the growing tent in Lance’s boxers, and the sight of Lance like this – half naked, restrained, and restless with want – fuels his own interest. “I’ll get to it eventually. But hey, feel free to beg for it.”

Keith puts his hands on Lance’s bare thighs and slides them up and in, ever so slowly, until his fingers are just under the hem of Lance’s boxers – and then stops.

 _“Keeeeith,”_ Lance whines. He slides down in the chair to bring his groin farther forward, but Keith’s hands go no higher. “Come on. Please!”

“What would you do if your hands were free, right now?” Keith asks. He shoves Lance’s legs farther apart and scoots closer until he’s kneeling between them. His hands skip over Lance’s hips to slide under Lance’s shirt and stroke the skin of his stomach.

“I’d make you stop _messing around_ and fucking _touch me_ already!” Lance says, his breathing shallow and quick.

“But I am touching you,” Keith says, smirking. He places a wet, lingering kiss on Lance’s inner thigh. “What _exactly_ would you do?”

Lance squirms as Keith continues to kiss and suck at his skin – everywhere but where Lance really wants it.

“I’d grab that stupid hot mullet and pull until your mouth was on my dick and you could suck me off, is what I’d do,” Lance bursts out. His hands fist and pull at the cuffs, but they’re firmly anchored to the arms of his chair. “Dammit…”

“You regretting the handcuffs now?” Keith asks. He slides one hand down to gently cup the now-prominent erection through Lance’s boxers.

“I’m regretting that you’re a fucking _tease!”_ Lance whines.

“What’s the point in being restrained if you aren’t going to exercise a little…” he squeezes. Lance groans. “Restraint?”

“Cute,” Lance mutters, rocking against Keith’s hand. “But I can be hard and frustrated on my own pretty well, you know.”

Keith rolls his eyes. He’s just trying to draw things out with some foreplay.

“Yeah, all right,” Keith says, and slips down Lance’s boxers to free his erection. He’s not really too upset at skipping to the main event. “Have a _little_ patience, will you?”

“Keith, I have -” Lance cuts off with a loud moan as Keith’s mouth slides down the shaft of his dick and sucks. “ _Ho-_ ly quiznak!”

And then Keith really gets to it, setting a steady rhythm with his mouth and using one hand to assist at the base while Lance becomes increasingly loud and increasingly non-verbal with his noises. He writhes in the chair and pulls against the restraints.

It’s… nice. Really nice. Gratifying. Beautiful, to see Lance so wild with pleasure. To see him helpless with it, at Keith’s hands. In Keith’s control.

The tightness of Keith’s pants is becoming increasingly uncomfortable as his own arousal grows and he shifts on his knees in a useless attempt to relieve that discomfort. His efforts to bring Lance to orgasm continue uninterrupted, sloppy and enthusiastic.

It doesn’t take long (Keith is _good_ at this and Lance is desperate) before Lance is coming with a whimper and spilling his spunk into Keith’s mouth. Keith swallows it all down and licks him clean until he’s soft and sensitive.

Lance is still shaking and panting when Keith pulls away to see his eyes drooping and a goofy smile on his face.

“Aaaah,” Lance says on an exhale, and it’s not a word but to Keith it sounds like praise.

“Okay?” Keith says, reaching up to lower Lance's chin so their eyes meet. Lance looks blissed out and Keith’s dick is envious.

“Yeah,” Lance says, nuzzling into Keith’s hand. “‘m good. Thanks.”

Keith stands and bends to give him another chaste kiss. He lingers.

“How do you feel about returning the favor?” Keith says, reluctant to straighten and remove himself from Lance’s personal space.

“Good feeling,” Lance says quickly, “Definitely good.”

His arm jerks in an attempt at movement, prevented by the handcuffs still anchoring his wrists to the chair. Lance stares at the cuffs like he’d forgotten they were there. Maybe he had, but it seems like a significant thing to forget when those are what brought them here, to this.

Keith laughs and finally stands tall, crossing his arms and watching Lance pout with a smirk.

“Should I release you or have you blow me like this, unable to use your hands?”

Lance squirms, face twisting with indecision. “I mean, the handcuffs are hot but I’m not getting off again so soon and I want to _touch_ you…”

Keith drops his arms with a regretful sigh. Yeah, Lance touching him sounds real nice. And if Lance isn’t tormented at being hard yet unable to do anything about it while restrained – what’s the point of keeping them on?

“Hold on. I’ll turn them off,” Keith says, and quickly crawls back under the table to push the hidden button again. He’s feeling _impatient_ now. He wants to feel Lance’s hands on his skin, Lance’s mouth on his dick.

When Keith emerges Lance is looking down at his arms in pale-faced horror. At his arms which are _still_ held to the chair by Altean handcuffs.

“Uh…” Keith frowns. “I’ll… try again?”

He tries again. And again. He must push that motherfucking button a hundred times and it does _nothing._ Not a damned thing.

“What the hell!” Keith pulls at his bangs. “Why won’t it work!?”

“Keith, I think we need the remote,” Lance says. His expression is grim, but he looks much calmer than Keith feels right now.

“I don’t have the remote!” He starts to pace along the length of the table, tugging the waist of his pants with frustrated discomfort.

“We’ll need to ask Coran.”

“And tell him _what?_ Sorry but we got Lance stuck to a chair doing freaky sex things!?”

“Keith. KEITH.”

Keith stops pacing and looks at Lance. Lance who is somehow not panicking while he sits cuffed to a chair. Dick out, pants around his ankles.

“Keith,” Lance says. “Chill. We don’t have to say it was on purpose, or that we had sex. We’ll say it was an accident.”

He huffs and crosses his arms. Yeah, okay, maybe that could work.

“Will he believe that?” Keith asks. Sceptical. It isn’t like that button is easy to press by mistake.

Lance shrugs and says, “Well it’s _me,_ so… probably.”

Keith snorts and… _reluctantly_ feels himself relax. A bit.

“So should I… go get him, then?” he asks.

“Well, you should probably pull up my pants first,” Lance says, smiling. His eyebrows raise and then wiggle. “And I thought you wanted me to return the favor?”

“Now?”

“Well not when Coran is here!”

Keith laughs and returns to stand in front of Lance. Looks down at him, restrained and disheveled. It’s a nice view.

“The mood’s a bit shot, now,” Keith says. Lies. Very little could kill the boner he’s been sporting since his mouth touched Lance’s dick.

Lance’s pointed look at Keith’s groin says he doesn’t buy it but he plays along, saying, “I’ll work extra hard to bring it back, then." He leans forward and looks up through his lashes to say, "I want you to fuck my mouth, Keith.”

Keith doesn’t really need convincing, but if he did... that would have done it.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, breathy and deep. He clears his throat and steps forward, unzipping his pants.

And Lance returns the favor.

.

Later – much later, after Lance has had his second orgasm, is fully dressed, and looking as innocent as he can while cuffed to a chair – Coran releases the handcuffs with a touch of the remote. Lance crows in relief and joy, standing and running a lap around the room.

Coran gives the remote to Keith. He winks and says, “So you won’t have to wake me up next time, eh?”


End file.
